No One Told Me
by Darkover
Summary: Various characters express their private thoughts.


11

Title: "No One Told Me"

Author: Darkover, a.k.a. TheQueenly1

Pairing: None

Rating: PG. There is one dirty word.

Spoilers: There is some mention of character deaths which are canonical, but beyond that, nothing specific. This story is set in season three some time after "Helpless," shortly after Faith and Wesley joined the show. I assume that readers are familiar with everything up to that point.

Summary: Various characters express their private thoughts.

Disclaimer: As far as I know, all the characters of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" are owned by their creator, Joss Whedon. I do not own them; if I did, the last two seasons, at least, would have been very different. No infringement of copyright is intended or should be inferred. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery: please do not sue!

Author's Notes: Feedback, as always, would be greatly appreciated!

Giles' POV: No one told me that being the Watcher to the Slayer was more than weapons training. More than martial arts. More than reading books or doing research into ancient demons and obscure prophecies. More than planning strategy against vampires, deciding what was best for the Slayer. No one warned me that the Slayer might have a mind of her own—might not even want to listen to her Watcher, much less obey. I was given to understand that Slayers did as their Watchers told them. Perhaps in the cases in which the Slayer was identified as a potential early in life, and raised by the Council from earliest childhood, well, maybe such Slayers do as they are told. But this one is different. Nothing prepared me for her. No one told me that being the Watcher is about listening as well as watching, about kindness, about gently advising the Slayer as well as recording what she does. No one told me that being the Watcher meant being a shoulder to cry on, a listener to whom she would vent her frustrations, a confidant, one who must teach his Slayer how to survive in ways that have nothing to do with slaying vampires or other demons. No one told me that offering ice cream at the right time can be just as important as being able to translate ancient languages. No one told me that sometimes a Watcher must protect his Slayer not just from vampires or magick-users, but from meddling high school principals, uncomprehending mothers, thoughtlessly-absent fathers, and teachers who even before meeting her were prejudiced against her. No one ever warned me how much it matters, sometimes, that the Watcher just be there. Most of all, no one ever told me how much I would come to love my Slayer. No one ever told me that perhaps that is the true meaning of "Chosen One."

Buffy's POV: No one ever really told me what this Slaying gig was all about. I suppose Merrick tried. Maybe if he'd lived longer—no, Giles says that's not the way to look at it. What's done is done, the past is past, and you can only learn from it and go on. It isn't good to dwell on it too much. And I guess he'd know, what with that stuff with Eyghon, and then Ms. Calendar dying and all. That really, really hurt him, I know, and I still can't believe he doesn't blame me for any of it. He's a great Watcher, better than I deserve sometimes. Maybe I should tell him so, but he's so stiff-upper-lippy that it's hard. I'm sure he knows, anyway. He knows everything. He's Giles. My Watcher. If Merrick hadn't died, I never would have met him. So I guess even terrible things can have good consequences, sometimes. No one told me I was going to be the Slayer, or that I would need a Watcher. And I do. I need Giles so much. No one ever told me how much. No one told me that slaying vamps, learning how to use weapons—everything from a wooden stake to crossbows, swords, and axes—was actually the easy part. No one told me that if you don't have somebody to talk to, someone who has his own version of the sacred-duty thing, somebody to explain things to you, to give you advice—even if he is really stuffy about it sometimes!—you can go crazy. No one told me that the Slayer really can't go it alone, not and stay sane. Maybe that's Faith's problem; she's trying to go it alone. I'm trying to be a friend to her, but it's pretty hard. I've been where she is now. I know what it's like to lose your first Watcher, and as for Mrs. Post, she had us all fooled, but Faith doesn't want to listen. No one can tell her anything. No one ever told me that one Watcher isn't as good as another. Wesley means well, I guess—he can even be kind of a good guy, in his own dorky Wesley-way—but he doesn't know me, not really. And I sometimes think that what he does know about me, he doesn't like very much. We don't mesh. Merrick was dedicated, but he was dedicated to the Slayer. Giles is dedicated to me, Buffy, who happens to be the Slayer. No one ever told me that I would ever get so dependent on him that I just couldn't do this without him. Quentin Travers said that Giles loves me. I don't want to think too much about what that means.

Joyce's POV: No one told me that life would be so hard. No one told me that I would marry a man whom I loved more than myself, only to have him turn into someone I didn't recognize, and then tell me one day that he wanted a divorce. No one ever told me I would have a daughter whom I love, but who drives me so crazy that sometimes I can't even see straight. No one told me that I would end up divorced, raising that daughter by myself, in a nice little town that turns out to be situated over something called a "Hellmouth." No one told me that following the divorce, I would be so desperate for companionship that I would take up with a man who turned out to be not a man at all, but some kind of robot—and a serial killer as well. No one told me that I would come to live in a place that seems nice on the surface, but if you want to be alive in the morning, you better be home by dark. Most of all, no one ever told me that my bright, vivacious, moody, ebullient daughter was a Vampire Slayer. No one ever prepared me for that.

Xander's POV: Monsters aren't exactly new to me. I'm not talking about vampires. I admit that when Buffy and Giles showed up in Sunnydale, and the whole Harvest-thing went down at the Bronze, I was plenty freaked. But monsters…well, let's just say that sometimes the worst you can find are the ones in your own home. There's more than one reason why booze used to be called "the demon rum." My Dad and Mom are drunks. There, I said it. In Sunnydale, there are a lot of things everyone knows are true, but nobody really talks about. No one told me that while I was trying to deal with the demons in my own family, into my life would come a blonde girl who could kick undead butt. No one ever told me that this girl would take over my life and my heart, but would never love me back—at least, never the way I wanted her to. No one told me that, in a way, her Watcher would become my Watcher too, because Giles would end up becoming more of a dad to me than my own dad. No one ever told me that I would end up being donut-guy to a gang of heroes who protect the world from vampires. And the biggest surprise of all—no one ever told me that I have it in me to be kind of heroic myself, sometimes. For sure, no one ever told me that.

Willow's POV: Outside of class, no one ever talked to me much, unless they wanted help with their homework. Why should they? I'm just boring little Willow. No one ever tells me much of anything. Giles is nice, but if I weren't so useful in helping him with research and knowing how to use a computer, would he ever take any notice of me? I doubt it. He's too busy noticing Buffy and taking care of her. Oohh, bad Willow—Buffy is the Slayer, after all, and Giles is her Watcher. That's his job, taking care of her. She is the important one. I'm not important; at least, no one, except maybe Oz, has ever told me that I am. When Buffy ran away, she never told me why. She never told me that she missed me, or wanted to talk about what she was going through. She never thanked me for bringing back Angel's soul, even though that took a lot out of me, and it really hurt. No one ever tells me "thank you," or ever tells me much of anything. I'm just sweet little Willow. Quiet Willow. Meek, dopey Willow. No one ever talked to me, asked me how it felt, to be able to use power like that. To realize I am capable of power like that. It's great, it's seductive, but there isn't anyone I can talk to about it, because no one asks me anything, no one tells me anything. They just expect me to be the good little girl all the time. Giles doesn't know it, but sometimes I sneak into his office and read books on magick, the ones he doesn't want me to see. If he won't tell me, I'll just have to find out for myself. I've asked him, but he won't tell me about it. No one wants to tell me anything. They just expect me to keep being a good little girl forever, all the time, no matter how unfair or how exhausting that is. No one ever told me that if you stop being the "good girl," even for a moment, you have to hide it, because people will forgive a vampire losing his soul faster than they will forgive a "good girl" who steps out of that role. No one ever told me that, and no one wants to hear me say it, either.

Cordelia's POV: No one ever told me that you should look past appearances. Okay, they did, but who believes that? In high school, appearance is everything. If you don't think so, tell me why there aren't any ugly girls on the cheerleading squad. Ugly girls can do the splits and the tumbles and learn the chants, too, but no one wants to look at someone ugly doing them. I certainly wouldn't. But no one told me that sometimes it's the people who seem to be the big losers who are really keeping the world going, because they're saving it from monsters. No one told me that sometimes the pretty people, the rich people, the important people, sometimes aren't really the important ones at all. Sometimes they're just a flock of sheep. No one ever told me that. And now that I know, what do I do now?

Wesley Wyndam-Price's POV: Really, no one told me it would be quite like this. There was only supposed to be one Slayer, one girl in all the world, and she should obey her Watcher. I can't get either Buffy or Faith to obey me. I can't get anyone to listen to me, even though the Council sent me here. Of course, it might be helpful if I were the only Watcher, instead of having to compete with Mr. Giles. Imagine becoming attached to one's Slayer! That is quite against the rules. Admittedly, I am beginning to realize, although no one told me this, that sometimes the rules do not always apply. This entire situation is unprecedented. The Slayer is supposed to have only one Watcher, to whom she has been bonded since early childhood. She is supposed to trust and obey him implicitly, not mock him, nor expect him to act in ways incompatible with his training. She is certainly not supposed to have friends; she is not supposed to have any contact with others unless her Watcher and the Council permit it. It is much too dangerous, not that Buffy ever listens to any of my explanations. Buffy is a willful girl, and entirely too emotional for her own good. She would probably say that I am not emotional enough. No one told me how to be Watcher to such an unorthodox Slayer. Certainly, no one ever told me how to be Watcher to two Slayers at the same time. Faith is, if possible, even more wayward than Buffy. The latter at least understands the concept of duty. Faith has isolated herself, and slays vampires because she enjoys it, not because it is the right thing to do. If Buffy is a creature of emotion, Faith is a person who lives on her nerves. What will happen when that nerve fails, I fear to say. No one ever told me how to deal with such a difficult situation. The others certainly do not trust me, nor do they have any respect for my ability. They don't even see me as a man, not really, except possibly Cordelia…no, no, mustn't think that way about her. She is an underage girl. No one ever told me what to do if I found myself in a situation where all my previous training as a Watcher did not help. Father, of course, would have something to say about that. Heaven knows he told me often enough that I was incompetent and useless. Perhaps he is right. Certainly, no one has ever told me otherwise.

Faith's POV: "One girl in all the world, the Chosen One," that's what my Watcher always told me the Slayer was. She and the Council more or less bought me from my drunken whore of a mother. They expected me to be grateful, not that they ever told me that in so many words, but it was pretty clear that they expected me to earn my keep. And at first I was grateful. I was willing to learn about vamps and how to kill them, and learning how to use the weapons was five-by-five. I never told anyone, but using weapons made me feel…less helpless. And it was great to live in a clean home where I got enough to eat. But there was training every day, all the time. No friends—not even the few I'd had back when I was growing up in Boston. Nothing for me. Slaying was it, the whole shebang. My Watcher was nice to me—a hell of a lot nicer than good ol' mom had ever been, I have to admit—but she wasn't doing it for me. There were times when I wonder if she ever even saw me, Faith, a girl. I was Faith, the Potential, and it was her job to train me in case I was ever Called someday. Then I was Called, and I thought that meant I was the Chosen One. That's what my Watcher always told me it meant. But no, she said there was this girl in a small town out in California who was still the Slayer. At first, I thought my Watcher was lying to me, maybe to keep me on my toes, make me try harder. Then when I found out for myself that it was true, I thought maybe she had lied about there never being more than one Slayer at a time. I'm still not too sure about that. No one ever tells you the truth. Maybe I could have gotten into it with her, but then Kakistos came—NO! I won't think about that! My Watcher gone, and I was alone again. Well, we're all alone, aren't we? They never tell you that, but it's true. I ran as fast and as far as I could, to California. A place called Sunnydale. I didn't intend to end up here—the money just ran out at that point. My Watcher would have said that the Slayer goes where the Slayer is needed, but that's probably just more mystical crap put out by the Council. I mean, why would I be needed in Sunnydale when the place had Princess Buffy? B. was already here, how's that for a joke? This was supposed to be my town, but it already had a Slayer. That wasn't what I had in mind, but once I was here, I didn't think it would be too bad. At least it would be somebody to slay with, someone who understood what it's like. Except that she doesn't. B. has a mom who doesn't drink or bring men home, a gorgeous man for a Watcher who is crazy about her even though she isn't having sex with him, all kinds of friends, and her own pet vampire. She wears designer clothes, has never gone hungry or worked a day in her spoiled little life, and gets to go to college if she can make the grades. Everyone treats her like she's God because she's the Slayer, the Chosen One, and she sure does know it by now. And yet she still has the nerve to whine about how hard her life is. I could tell Princess B. a thing or two about how hard things can be. She'd never listen, though. No one can tell her anything. No one wants to tell me what their plans are, or make me a part of the group. Sometimes I wonder if I'm playing for the wrong team.

Principal Snyder's POV: The Mayor told me what he expected of me when I accepted this job, but what I didn't tell him is that I would gladly have taken it on anyway. That meddling librarian once asked me why I became a high school principal when I clearly don't like children. I didn't tell him, but that is the reason why. I hate kids, especially teenagers. I hated teenagers when I was one myself. That Summers brat once taunted me by saying that I must not have had a date the entire time I was in high school. That's right, little missy—I went up to blonde princesses like you, and gorgeous cheerleaders like the Chase girl, and even the quiet, studious types like your little friend Rosenberg, and would ask them for dates. They always, always shot me down. When the Mayor told me that Sunnydale High School needed a new principal and that he knew I was just the man for the job, he didn't know how right he was. You see, now I'm the one in charge. Now I'm the one who gets to destroy your dreams and ruin your self-esteem. The Mayor hasn't told me much about his future plans, but I know something big is in the works. I know that, as his faithful employee, I'll be very important to him. I've never told Summers this, or mentioned it to that thug of a librarian who is so concerned about her, but I take great pleasure in knowing that both the school and I will be here long after she is gone.


End file.
